


5 Times Daisy Wore Coulson's Shirt

by Skyson



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 21:12:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5348669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/pseuds/Skyson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And 1 Time Someone Noticed</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Times Daisy Wore Coulson's Shirt

**5.**

 

Coulson stepped out of the bathroom, running a towel through his hair. When he brought it down from his face, he realized Daisy was laying on the bed, her wet hair carefully wrapped in a towel to keep the pillows from getting damp. She also still had a towel around her body, as well, which he wasn't expecting.

"Sorry..." Coulson swallowed, unable to pull his eyes from her. "I thought you would've been dressed by the time I got out..."

Daisy looked sheepish, but not embarrassed enough to fidget or even shift her position.

"Sorry, I realized I didn't have anything clean to put on..." She glanced over at where her dirt-stained tac suit was piled on top of the recliner. She also looked down momentarily to make sure the towel wrapped around her body was still covering her efficiently. When she returned her gaze to Coulson, he was looking at her towel as well.

"Well," He cleared his throat, and the mask was back in place, "I have an extra shirt you could wear."

He dug through the duffel that was on the floor at the foot of the bed, and Daisy bit her bottom lip as she looked at the way his jeans fit around his ass. When he turned back around, shirt in hand, she was half a second too slow meeting his eyes. His brow furrowed momentarily, but he said nothing, and draped the shirt on the bed by her feet.

"I'll just finish up in there while you..." He gestured his head toward the bathroom, and she nodded. She made no move to get up, and his hand drifted from his shirt to her left foot. "Are you okay?" He asked softly, and she sighed before nodding.

"Just tired. Very tired." She admitted, and he looked empathetic.

"It's been a long couple months, huh?" He said consolingly, rubbing her foot gently. His thumb pressed into the curve of her foot just as she spoke,

"Yeah - ohhh, _man_ ," She closed her eyes at how good that relief of pressure felt, and then blushed when she realized she'd made that noise out loud. She opened her eyes to find Coulson smirking a little at her.

Instead of mocking her, though, he sat down on the edge of the bed and took her foot in both of his hands. The left one was a little odd, because she knew it wasn't real, but the synthetic skin FitzSimmons had developed felt no different than his other hand. They even looked similar, to the untrained eye.

And he must've really been working on how to control the tech of the prosthetic, because the amount of pressure he was putting into all the knots and sore places was _perfect_.

"Relax for a little bit." He advised softly. "You've earned it."

So she did, as he turned her feet, ankles, and calves into putty. She never really thought before how amazing a foot massage could be, and she wished she'd done something like this ages ago. She wished _Coulson_ had done this ages ago, because, hell, if this was the only way she would be able to get his hands on her, well, she'd take it.

"You're really good at this," She murmured as he reached her knee and then moved his attention to her other leg. He was focused on his task, but she could see his ears shift as he smiled. "Mm," She tried to quiet the grunt as he hit a particularly sore spot.

"Breathe. Let it go." His voice was almost as magical as his hands. It was all turning her brain into a sort of fuzzy state of relaxation, and she mildly wondered if this was his superpower - making people reach this sort of zen mode.

She breathed in and out slowly, allowing her body to relax under his hands. The muscle just above her knee was particularly tight, and his fingers pushed up the edge of her towel just enough so he could work the muscle thoroughly. She was still decently covered, but she suddenly found herself wanting his fingers to keep moving upward...

"Better?" He asked, and she hadn't realized her eyes had closed until she opened them again. There was something just a little off about his voice, and when she caught his eyes she realized why - judging by the expression on his face and his blown pupils, he was aroused as well.

"Much. Thank you." She said sincerely. She didn't move from under him, and his hand still rested just above her knee. They stared at one another for a good ten seconds before he slipped away and got to his feet. She tried not to look disappointed.

"Just knock on the door when you're finished." He told her, offering a close-lipped smile before shutting himself away in the bathroom.

She tried not to groan in frustration as she banged her head once against the pillows. She glared at the ceiling for a second, and then sat up to reach for the shirt.

 

 

**4.**

" _Dammit_ ," Daisy hissed as they ducked around the corner away from the gunfire. She clutched at the front of her dress with one hand while she unstrapped an Icer from her thigh with the other. Coulson tried not to glance toward the flash of exposed skin, and pursed his lips.

"Are you hit?" He asked as he pressed his back against the wall opposite of her, shifting to look around the corner and try to get a view of their attackers. Gunfire spurted again and he hurriedly pulled back to their relative safety.

"Superficial," Daisy confirmed as she lowered the fabric enough to get a look at her collarbone. A thin slice of red marred her skin from the top curve of her shoulder diagonally down toward her sternum, but it didn't look life-threateningly deep. "The dress is ruined, though," She sighed a bit sadly; he knew she would've liked to keep this one after the mission was over.

"Sorry," He grimaced, and then holstered his gun momentarily so he could shuck off his jacket.

"What are you doing?" Daisy wondered incredulously, her gaze flitting to the room they'd just escaped from.

"We need to move, and you may need both hands," Coulson explained quickly, not even pausing as he dropped his jacket and unbuttoned his dress shirt just enough so he could pull it over his head. He tossed his shirt at her as he pulled his weapon again and peered around the corner, firing off a few rounds. That incited another attack from the men that were after them, and Daisy quickly returned to focus and pulled his shirt on over the ruined dress.

"Thanks." She said, and he nodded. They shared a look, and then she nodded, and stepped into full view of their attackers, palms raised in front of her.

They didn't have a chance.

Once they were on the street and confirmed they weren't being followed, Coulson called the local police and informed them of the handful of unconscious Hydra agents in the back exhibit hall of the history museum.

When they returned to their hotel, they quickly transferred their belongings to a different one a few blocks away, and Coulson picked up a first aid kit from a drug store as they walked. He got some ice and extra towels down the hall from their room, and made Daisy sit at the foot of the bed while he pulled the desk chair opposite and patched her up.

This wasn't the first time one of them has had to patch the other up, but for some reason Coulson was being particularly hesitant. He kept staring at her neck, where the collar of his shirt rested against her skin. He pulled it open further rather slowly, unbuttoning it down to her breastbone, almost far enough to be indecent. But she sat still the entire time, watching him with a softness in her eyes that he didn't dare to name. She was quiet as he worked, only making a noise of displeasure when he cleaned the wound with an alcohol wipe.

"You're lucky this won't need stitches." He murmured, fashioning together a few long thinner pieces of gauze to cover the wound and the medicine he had applied to it. He tried to be very pragmatic about the way his fingers were brushing against her skin, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to do when he knew that the only thing covering her breasts was a couple inches of fabric - fabric of _his_ shirt.

There was something that always aroused him about a beautiful woman wearing his clothes, but the fact that this was Daisy made it almost... Endearing, in a way. He was suddenly feeling very domestic, even as he was stained with her blood and they both smelled of gunpowder, sweat, and adrenalin.

He cleared his throat and stood, moving to throw away the used medical supplies and wash his hands.

"I'm sorry I bled on your shirt," Daisy sounded a bit muffled, and he leaned halfway back into the bedroom as he dried his hands on a towel. She was looking down at the shirt she was wearing, pulling at the fabric.

"I have plenty of white shirts, Daisy." Coulson assured her softly, tossing the towel onto the counter and pulling his undershirt out of the waistband of his pants as he walked back into the bedroom.

As he moved the chair back into place, he heard rustling of fabric, and turned back around to see her pulling the remains of her dress off from around her ankles. He swallowed hard, opening his mouth to say something, then closing it again when he didn't trust his voice. She lifted a foot to unstrap one of her heels and pull it off, then did the same with the other foot and tossed the shoes out of the way.

She sighed heavily, rolling her shoulders, and he heard the audible cracking of her spine. He couldn't stop looking at her.

The ends of his shirt reached mid-thigh on her, and the collar was still unbuttoned low, half falling off of the shoulder she had injured.

"I'm going to take a shower." He announced, and she nodded as she stood at the right side of the bed and carefully rearranged the pillows so she wouldn't mess up her bandages.

"I'm going to sleep," She replied, and he was immensely relieved that she didn't seem to notice how completely unprofessional he was being.

He nodded, although she wasn't facing him, and closed himself in the bathroom before he pushed his luck.

Under the spray of the shower, he came into his hand with the image of the collar of his shirt against the curve of her neck.

 

**3.**

It had been months since the mess with the ATCU, Malick, Hydra, Ward... Rosalind. Weeks of Mack still in charge as Acting Director, of Coulson slowly recovering both mentally and physically after returning through the portal. A few weeks less than that of Coulson acting as her new partner, watching her back as she went out with her Inhumans team, working with her as they went on undercover ops to try and weed out the few remaining Hydra powers.

Coulson seemed to be doing well, back to his former self, but she still wasn't quite sure that it wasn't an act. With Andrew still out of the picture, Daisy and May were realistically the only two people close enough to him to be able to tell if he was lying... And Daisy wasn't sure. His vibrations were all off whenever he was around her, like he was still hiding something big, something he thought she wouldn't approve of. Conscientious of his guilt over Price, she resisted pushing him for answers. She didn't want to drag out the past while he was trying to heal from it.

She also knew though, from her renewed morning Tai-Chi meetings with May, that he wasn't really talking with his old friend either. May only shrugged and kept telling her that he would talk when he was ready.

She still worried. It didn't seem to be affecting his performance in the field - she fully trusted him to have her back and he always did - so she didn't bring it up with Mack. The man was already concerned enough because of Coulson's past decisions to be bothered with more. He was doing well as a leader, Daisy thought, but she also knew he'd rather be rid of the title as soon as possible. Coulson, however, didn't appear to be wanting his old office back anytime soon.

"Morning," Coulson was pouring a cup of coffee when she entered the kitchen, and handed it over to her. She took it thankfully, sipping carefully so she wouldn't burn her tongue. She leaned against the edge of the counter near him, cradling the warm mug against her chest. She should have thrown on a sweatshirt before leaving the gym. The sweat on her skin was starting to cool, and it made her shiver.

"Heat go out again?" She murmured, complaining but resigned - this had been happening off and on for the past month, and of course it was January and freezing outside.

"Yeah," He sighed as he poured himself a mug and mirrored her position, though kept the mug only in his right hand. He was still a little wary about accidentally breaking things with his prosthetic. "The Director is taking a look at it. He'll probably be able to fix it better than anyone else had."

That was still weird, hearing Coulson call someone else the Director, especially since he said it so easily, as if it had never been his title at all.

"Thank God. Getting out of the shower in the mornings is always the hardest decision I have to make in the day." Daisy joked, and Coulson smirked. She peered sideways at him as he drank from his mug, looking for any slips in his expression. There were none, of course. Perhaps he really was releasing some of that guilt and stress that had been weighing him down?

"Here," He furrowed his brow in concern, and set his mug on the counter. She frowned at him, wondering what he was doing, and watched as he pulled his hoodie off over his head. "You should probably consider bundling up a little around here until we actually get the heating system fixed." He teased her wryly, waiting for her to set her mug down as well before handing the hoodie over.

"Ah, Phil, you don't have to," She started to argue, but he pushed the fabric into her hands.

"Just give it back after you find your own." He shrugged his shoulders as if it was no big deal, now standing there in a dark blue SHIELD issued t-shirt. He picked up his coffee again and leaned against the counter as if the chill in the room didn't bother him at all.

"How'd you know?" She muttered as she slipped the hoodie on.

"Are you kidding? I've seen your quarters." He smirked, and she grinned back. Okay, so maybe her room needed a little cleaning. "Just don't lose mine, too. This one's my favorite." He spoke a little flippantly, but she knew by the Captain America shield on the front that he was probably telling her the truth. He chuckled and reached to lower the hood for her as she straightened out the waistband around her hips. She looked up at him in surprise, her heart warming as she saw the genuine happiness in his eyes.

"Any coffee left?" Bobbi's voice broke between them before Daisy could say anything, and Coulson was stepping away from her. When had he gotten that close?

"Fresh pot," Coulson assured Bobbi, pulling a mug down from the cabinet for her. Skye caught the gaze of the other woman, finding her bemused expression and frowning at it. "Gotta run," Coulson lifted his mug in salutation toward Daisy before leaving the room.

"Kind of surprised he doesn't go to the gym earlier in the mornings." Bobbi commented as she poured herself coffee.

"Why?" Daisy wondered, pushing her free hand into the front pocket of the hoodie. She felt very comfortable now; it still held Coulson's body heat, and the coffee was starting to warm her from the inside.

"Just figured he'd like to work out with you and May." Bobbi continued to speak in a nonchalant tone, and Daisy raised her eyebrow at her.

"Why?" She asked again. While she knew that he had sparred with May a few times every blue moon, he never gave her the inclination that he'd wanted to lately, or spar with her either. As far as she knew, he didn't do anything more than run five or so miles every day, lift a few weights every other day.

"Nothing." Bobbi sighed, rolling her eyes, giving up on something. "Nice sweatshirt. I would've pegged you for an Iron Man kind of girl."

She left the room before Daisy could retort, and Daisy let out a breath of frustration. She finished her coffee, put the mug in the sink, and headed toward her room to do a some early spring cleaning.

She did indulge herself with a deep breath in through the collar of the hoodie, though, smiling to herself as she tucked both her hands deep into the pocket as she walked down the hall.

 

 

**2.**

"We've really got to stop meeting like this," Daisy joked, turning her head to the side to spit blood out of her mouth while Coulson saw to the restraints holding her arms behind her.

"Did they hurt you?" He demanded, his voice tightly wound with restrained anger. Of course she was hurt, she was bleeding, but she understood what he was really asking. She _was_ sitting in just her bra and pants, after all, and tied to a chair.

"No, they just thought they could humiliate me." Daisy laughed, then coughed. "Jokes on them; I'm totally comfortable with my body."

Coulson looked at her wryly as he leaned back to get a look at her injuries.

"I mean, have you _seen_ me?" She babbled on, trying to distract herself from the sudden spark of nerves low in her stomach. "This Inhuman metabolism is a bitch to keep up with but _man_ it makes me look good."

Coulson's laugh sounded a little strange, clipped, and he knelt in front of her to release the restraints holding her legs against the chair. The nerves fluttering around turned into burning, and she swallowed as she looked down at him. Did they inject her with something? When the hell did he get so attractive? Well, he'd always been fairly attractive in her eyes, but she'd long ago learned to ignore those musings.

"Put this on." Coulson stood the second he dropped the restraints, unbuttoning his shirt with a speed that impressed her. He seemed to be blushing, as well. Could he tell that she was aroused? Dammit, they definitely injected her with something. What was it? She hoped it wasn't anything dangerous.

Her inhalation of breath was sharp and audible as he pulled the dress shirt off of his shoulders, his abdomen eye-level with her, and she reached her hand out toward him before she even fully had the thought to.

This time her hiss of breath was one of pain, and she immediately relaxed her arm into her lap before she managed to touch him. She'd been tied to the chair for long enough that her shoulders ached, and the movement had sent a flare of pain through her that cleared her head a little.

"I think they drugged me," she said to his chest, fairly well-defined through the sleeveless undershirt he was wearing.

"I figured," He said dryly, hoisting her up to standing position. She stumbled a little into him, mostly unintentional, but she was okay with the way his body felt against hers. Very okay with it.

" _Daisy_." Coulson muttered quietly, insistently, pushing her away at arms-length with his hands on her shoulders. She looked toward his eyes and saw that he was squeezing them closed, a pained look on his face.

"Sorry." She said meaningfully, dropping her chin to her chest.

She felt very sad all of a sudden, like a child who was chastised for getting too excited about something. A part of her knew these extremes were because of the drugs in her system, but she couldn't do anything to stop them. She carefully took his shirt from him without touching his hand, but only held it against her chest.

"I can't... My arms hurt too much..." She explained apologetically after they were silent and unmoving for a few moments.

Coulson sighed heavily, clearly berating himself, and gently took the shirt back from her and helped her get her arms into the sleeves, first the right and then the left.

"There you go," He said softly, standing in front of her and straightening out the collar. He even buttoned it up for her, starting at the bottom. She stood very still has he worked, biting her lip as she restrained herself from curling her fingers around his hips. Then his fingers brushed against the curve of her breast, and she couldn't help the heavy inward breath the gesture incited.

He froze, his eyes on his hand as if it had betrayed him in someway. She watched his face anxiously, silently pleading, begging, hoping...

In the time of a single blink he was groaning in frustration, his face pressed into the side of her neck, his hands wrapped around the curve of her ribcage to pull her body flush against his once more. This time was definitely not an accident.

He was muttering words against her skin, his lips brushing against her neck in almost-kisses but she was motionless, surprised, filled with such sudden utter joy that she couldn't do anything for a moment. _Elation;_ he was _kissing_ her, though not really, not where she wanted. He was holding her, though, his body hot against hers, his suit pants not hiding the fact that he was mildly aroused.

"Mm, please tell me that's not your gun," She moaned against his ear, pressing her hips up against his. He grunted, one hand sliding around her and dropping to her lower back, encouraging her to thrust against him again. He rolled his hips in counterpoint and she made a loud, unintelligible noise, unbearably aroused by this point.

"Fuck, Daisy," he breathed, pulling his head back to push his fingers through her hair, holding her head at an angle where he could kiss her, hard and needy. Was he drugged too? Did she somehow infect him with whatever they'd given her? There was no way he could want her too, this much, after everything...

"God, Daisy, I've wanted you for so long," He revealed, giving her no chance to voice her surprise before kissing her again, swiping his tongue along her lower lip in request for entrance. Of course she granted it, not caring that she was still unknowingly speaking out loud, only relieved that he was taking care of the fire inside of her, the fire that was growing, threatening to consume her, to consume him...

As he pressed his tongue into her mouth, exploring with abandon, she grasped at his shoulders and shifted her legs, wanting to wrap them around his body. Somehow he understood (there was no way she could've spoken aloud this time what with his tongue practically down her throat), reaching for her thighs to lift her up, without breaking the kiss for even a second. He turned and fell roughly into the chair, holding her on top of him. It scraped noisily against the floor, but neither of them paid it any mind as she blindly fumbled with his belt buckle.

"No time," he breathed harshly against her ear as she rested her forehead on top of his shoulder. His fingers curved around her ass and he tugged at the same time he pushed up against her, and she blurted out a high pitched noise of pleasure that made him close his eyes again. The bulge in his pants was very prominent, now, and it pressed against the inseam of her jeans just perfectly.

"Okay," She purred, "okay," She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, picking up rhythm as she pushed her hips hard against him. He felt _so good_ , even with the layers of clothes between them, and he seemed to think so as well, because he dropped his head back and groaned between his teeth.

"Backup will be here soon," He grunted, sweat dripping down his temples, and she nodded against him, both of them too focused on the friction of their bodies to attempt more kissing.

"Coulson," She hitched, and he slipped his fingers against the nape of her neck, pushing into the ends of her hair as he encouraged her.

"Yes, yes," He urged quietly, out of breath but sounding a little more in control than her.

" _Phil_ ," He cut her off with a crushing, open-mouthed kiss, groaning into her as he came as well, their hips still moving in softer gestures as their bodies pulsed. He peppered kisses against her hair as she did the same to the juncture of his shoulder and neck.

She didn't remember what happened after that; just clips of images of May helping her down a hallway, Hunter helping May strap her into the Quinjet, Coulson ordering Bobbi to take off and then talking with Simmons over the comms.

Then she was in the medbay, drowsy and foggy-headed, and Simmons was injecting her with something and speaking in soothing tones.

When she woke up, Coulson was sitting in the chair next to her bed, looking pensive. And ashamed.

"Don't do that." She managed, her voice dry and cracking. He jumped slightly, surprised she was awake, and leaned toward her in concern.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, and she swallowed slowly, carefully.

"Sore." She commented, and he grimaced, avoiding her eyes. She frowned at him. "Stop that," She insisted, pursing her lips when the rawness of her throat didn't abate.

"The drugs they gave you were supposed to react to high levels of oxytocin. They made your body crave ...sexual release, so the oxytocin would be released and then the drug would take effect." Coulson explained, instead of acknowledging her words. "You almost died, because I..." He cut himself off, frowning deeply. "I can't _believe_ I did that." He muttered, frustrated.

"Hey!" She ordered, getting him to look at her again, " _Don't_ sit there and tell me _while I'm in a hospital bed_ that you regret us - "

"No, I don't regret _that_ , specifically!" He quickly interrupted her, surreptitiously glancing over his shoulder. "We were in the middle of a _mission_!" She was quiet for a moment.

"Oh." She said calmly. A beat passed, and then, "Did May walk in on...?"

"No." Coulson told her, and she relaxed. "But, Simmons knows. She had to counteract the release of oxytocin..." He looked a little embarrassed, and Daisy pursed her lips.

"Well..." She wasn't sure what to say.

"She won't tell anyone." Coulson promised, and Daisy looked at him nervously.

"I need to know, Phil... Was that just, uh, a one-off, or...?" She looked him in the eye, and he blinked and his expression softened.

"Daisy, I..." He stopped, then broke into a half-smile, "Not if you keep wearing my shirts." He admitted, and Daisy barked out a chuckle in surprise. She smiled at him for a few seconds, and then realized something.

" _That's_ why you've seemed so off around me lately, isn't it?" She mused, and he blushed at that.

"I've tried to be professional," He started apologetically, and she scoffed and reached for the collar of his undershirt. He leaned forward with a start, and she tugged him closer.

"Kiss me before someone walks in." She demanded, and he obliged with obvious relief.

 

 

 

**1.**

He couldn't be her partner anymore. She understood, but she needed someone at her back. So he started meeting with Mack a few times a week, discussing plans to continue as Director once more.

Mack was smart about it, and it only cemented in Coulson's mind how good he was at this job, even if he didn't think so. Mack looked forward to working in the field with Daisy again, even though he usually complained about field work. They started trading off tasks, little by little. Easing themselves back into their previous roles.

It was one of those days where Coulson was behind the desk once more, when Daisy walked in wearing his Captain America sweatshirt.

"I thought I would return this. I finally found mine," She told him with a spark in her eyes, and he watched curiously as she shut the door behind her, and locked it.

"Oh? That only took three months," He replied lightly, shuffling paperwork and setting it to the side. With that look in her eye, he had a feeling he wouldn't be getting any work done while she was in here. "So why are you wearing it, then, if you're giving it back to me?"

"I thought you might like to take it off of me," She tossed back, wiggling her eyebrows as she approached his desk. He smiled and rolled his chair back, turning to face her as she rounded it to stand in front of him.

Without standing, he lifted his hands to rest his palms against her waist, simply looking up at her for a beat. She smiled demurely as she placed her hands lightly on his shoulders, and he slowly, teasingly, slid his hands down her body. When he grasped the bottom of the hoodie, he paused for a moment, raising his eyebrow at her in a roguish manner. She laughed quietly, her eyes sparkling with something more than just amusement at him. They hadn't done anything more than some very intense make-out sessions since she had been drugged, trying to take things a little slow and make sure this wasn't just blind lust. He still wanted her, of course, and knew she wanted him as well, but he wondered how far they would take it this time...

"What - " His breath halted when his slipped his hands up under the hoodie, feeling nothing but the soft skin of her stomach. "Are you...?" He didn't even finish his question as he slowly continued to move his hands upward toward her breasts. " _Shit_ , Daisy." He let out a quiet breath of surprise as he discovered she wasn't wearing anything under it.

"It might've been a bit inappropriate to _not_ wear the sweatshirt," She informed him, a bit short of breath as his hands curved around her breasts. She squeezed his shoulders encouragingly, and he brushed his thumb across her nipple. God, he had wanted her for so long, and the dry-humping and coming in one of his best pair pants had only made it worse.

"I see what you mean," He agreed, leaning forward to maneuver his head under the hoodie, kissing her stomach reverently. Her fingernails ran up and down the nape of his neck, causing him to shiver and make a pleased noise against her sternum.

"Phil," She struggled, laughing, when the hoodie proved to be too small for him to do what he really wanted, so he pulled himself back out from under it, then lifted the whole thing up to her shoulders, revealing her breasts for his lips. She gasped when he latched onto one, one hand curving more firmly around the back of his head, holding him against her. He grabbed her hips and turned them to push her against his desk, rolling his chair forward so he could be closer to her.

"How did you know it would be me in here today, and not Mack?" He wondered distractedly as he kissed his way slowly back down her body.

"Lucky guess," She managed, writhing a little against him. He continued to slowly thumb her other nipple as he unbuttoned her pants with his other hand.

"Can I?" He looked back up at her, and she bit her lip and nodded urgently. "Are you sure?" He checked, and she ran her hand through his hair lovingly.

"I've imagine you taking me on this desk many times, Phil." She told him, and his mouth went dry just as quickly as his dick hardened. He shifted in his seat at the uncomfortable tension in his pants, and she smirked knowingly.

"Someone could walk in," He said, suddenly nervous and glancing toward the door.

"That's why I locked the door." She told him as if he were slow.

"Right." He said, but now he was stopped, his hand still over her breast, and he wasn't sure what he wanted to do next. She placed a hand over his, guiding his thumb over her nipple again, and he watched the movement in fascination. His other hand had dropped almost subconsciously from her jeans to his own pants, his fingers grasping the bulge of his cock and squeezing along with the movement of their fingers over her skin.

Her lips parted as her eyes darkened, and he shot to his feet, grabbing her hips and lifting her up onto the desk. They kissed open-mouthed and sloppy, each hurriedly unbuttoning their own pants and shoving them out of the way. Coulson helped her pull hers off completely, tossing them haphazardly onto his chair behind him as she curved her fingers under the waistband of his briefs and pushed them down without preamble.

"Fuck," She whispered when his cock sprang free, wrapping her fingers around it immediately. He grunted and slapped his hand onto the desk beside her, catching himself before his knees gave out. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder as she slid her hand along his length carefully. Her touch disappeared for a fraction of a second, but then it returned warm and slick, her movements more sure and firm.

He groaned loudly at the realization she was using her own arousal to ease the friction of their skin, and he quieted himself by intending to leave a hickey on the skin above her collarbone, where a faint white thin line of a scar was only noticeable if you knew to look for it.

"God, you're gonna get us caught!" Daisy warned, but she didn't stop the slow pump of his cock, and even tilted her head back a little to give his mouth more room. He nipped lightly at her skin and she gasped, then in retaliation rubbed her thumb across the tip of his cock.

"Daisy," He whimpered, suddenly feeling like he couldn't hold back too much longer, and leaned away to catch her eye.

"Yeah," She agreed, one hand curling around the back of his neck to pull his mouth against hers as she used the grip on his cock to guide it into her center.

He placed his hands on the desk right behind her, so his arms were partially around her while he braced himself against the desk. She wrapped her legs around his back, her arms around his neck, and murmured encouragingly into his ear as he thrust into her as slowly as he dared.

"Harder, Phil," Daisy insisted, running her nails through his hair again, knowing how much he liked that. His hip bones snapped against hers in response, the movement shifting the desk under them. They froze for a second at the noise, breathless as they waited for someone to come banging against the door and demanding to be let in.

Silence. Daisy let out a heavy breath, and pawed at his back.

" _Phil_ ," She begged, and with another burst of energy his lifted her up and pressed her against the nearest wall. The change in angle, their bodies completely flush against one another, caused her to make that high pitched noise that he'd been dreaming about ever since he first heard her make it...

"Yes, yes," She was gasping into his ear, getting closer and closer as his pelvic bone pressed up against her right where she needed it. She scrabbled blindly at the buttons of his shirt, working to unbutton it and then sliding her hands underneath it. He wasn't wearing an undershirt today, and her palms were hot against his skin. His next thrust he kept his hips against hers, rolling them hard, and her fingers curled against his back, nails digging in as she opened her mouth.

She didn't make any noise, though, just pulsed around him, gripping tightly as he continued to thrust into her. He wasn't quite there yet, he just needed a little more, a few more....

"Oh _God_ yes Coulson don't stop _fuck_ ," She blurted, and he lifted his head to catch her gaze with somewhat surprise as she started to reach her tipping point again almost immediately, her noises getting louder with each pound of his cock.

He was starting to ache already, and hoped that he would come before his knees gave out, or before _she_ was the one that got them caught.

"Phil, _faster_ , Phil," She ordered him, mouth already pressed into his shoulder as he did as she asked. They were both sweating with exertion when the familiar tingling finally hit him, suddenly, and then with such force that he moaned loudly before he could muffle himself.

"Ngh, Daisy," He groaned as he came, partially collapsing against her and the wall as he supported himself upright, his cock pulsing inside of her. She carefully lowered her feet to the floor, leaning against him and breathing just as heavily as he was.

"Did you...?" He wondered breathlessly, after he had softened and slipped out of her, after he could return to Earth.

"Twice," She assured him, then giggled against his chest. "I don't think we were very good about being quiet."

"I guess that means Mack is entirely finished with working in here, then." Coulson mused, and they shared a look before laughing against each other. They tumbled ungracefully to the floor, splaying themselves out as they tried to catch their breath.

"Are you still worried someone will walk in on us?" Daisy reminded him, her head tilted to press against the side of his shoulder. He had her hand clasped in his, resting on his chest as he caressed her skin thoughtfully.

"Maybe you should find your pants." He finally conceded, sounding disappointed, and she lifted herself up onto her elbow so she could lean over him.

"I love you, you know." She told him, looking him down unwaveringly. He reached up and pressed his fingers through the waves of her hair, brushing it back away from her face.

"I've loved you for a long time." He told her just as seriously. "And 'I'm sorry' doesn't even begin to cover the shit I've done during all that time."

"It's a good start," She reasoned lightly, then smiled carefully at him. He smiled back, and she leaned down to give him a long, slow kiss before she got to her feet and went to pick up her jeans.

He lifted his hips up with a grunt, pulling his briefs and pants back over and fastening his belt. He stayed flat on the floor for a few more minutes, though, as Daisy used the camera on her phone to make sure her hair and face looked more presentable to the public and less 'I just had passionate sex with my boss-partner'.

"You okay down there old man?" She joked, and he groaned in complaint,

"Come on,"

"Hey, just kidding," She leaned over him again, one hand lovingly over his chest and the other grasping his hand. "You definitely should _not_ be doubting your prowess," She assured him, her eyes twinkling as she helped him to his feet (not that he _needed_ help, he just liked holding her hand and didn't want to let go yet).

She pressed another, close-mouthed kiss against his lips before sliding her hand out of his, walking backwards toward the door.

"What about my sweatshirt?" He remembered, and she hesitated, then looked coyly at him.

"You know, I have a light blue shirt that looks almost just like that one..." She mentioned, stepping toward him slowly. He looked down at his open shirt, back up at her, and raised his eyebrow.

 

 

 

**0.**

"Oh, that's nice, I haven't seen you wear that shirt in a while!" Simmons smiled widely at Daisy when she stepped into the lab. Daisy grinned back, doing a little curtsy for her friend.

"I kinda miss wearing something different other than black all the time," Daisy admitted.

"It's just nice to see that we haven't all changed _too_ much," Simmons confided, and Daisy nodded in agreement. "Though," The scientist mused in a distracted afterthought, "that shirt fits you a little differently, now. Of course, working with May, building muscle, and that Inhuman metabolism, I'm sure you're still fit as a fiddle." Simmons assured, and Daisy laughed.

"Trust me, Simmons, I eat more than Hunter. I won't waste away anytime soon," She joked.

Bobbi hadn't said anything to her yet, only stood there with a suspicious expression on her face. Suddenly unsure whether she wanted to be having this conversation here and now - especially with Lincoln standing at the other counter nearby - Daisy made up a quick excuse to leave and stepped away.

As expected, Bobbi followed her into the hall.

"Hey," Bobbi's tone was sharp, but not necessarily accusatory. Once they were a relatively private distance away from the door of the lab, Daisy stopped.

"Bobbi,"

"I wanted to say," Bobbi approached her and softened her expression. "I'm glad to finally see the two of you have reached an agreement." Daisy opted to play the clueless card, just to see what would happen, and furrowed her brow. Bobbi rolled her eyes. "Come on. Simmons may think you've lost a little weight, but I know that's a man's shirt."

Daisy blinked, Bobbi smiled, and then Daisy smirked.

"Any chance you could keep this on the down low for a bit?" Daisy asked, and Bobbi barked out a laugh.

"Yeah, if the two of you could keep _yourselves_ down a bit." Bobbi replied, and Daisy was equal parts amused and embarrassed. "Mack was headed up to get some papers he'd left, and overheard, ah, well, something he wouldn't tell me in detail. I figured I knew what he was talking about, though."

"Do you think he...?" Daisy wondered, a little worried. Mack took the Director role seriously, and 'reinstating' Coulson, seriously.

"I wouldn't worry about him. I imagine he's drowning himself in beer and Call of Duty to forget about all of it." Bobbi punched her shoulder companionably. "We're all rooting for the two of you, you know. 'Team Mom and Dad'."

"Do you guys seriously call us that?" Daisy wrinkled her nose, and Bobbi chuckled.

"Well, Hunter is mostly the only one who calls you that. But I've heard May use the term as well."

" _May_?" Daisy exclaimed.

"She and Coulson have been friends forever, right? I'm sure she knows him better than he knows himself." Bobbi shrugged and smiled again. "Take it easy on our Director, Rockstar."

"Tell _him_ that," Daisy muttered automatically in retort, and Bobbi raised her eyebrows in surprise. Daisy laughed once, looked uncomfortable, and then walked away before Bobbi could ask any questions.

When she walked into the lounge to see if there was any beer left, Mack looked up from his game, his expression immediately falling as he realized it was her.

"Uh, hey, Tremors," He stumbled, his expression returning to something more normal, and she rolled her eyes and sighed, folding her arms across her chest.

"Chill out, Mack. Bobbi told me what happened... Sorry we _surprised_ you, but hey, we're all adults here right?"

"Yeah..." Mack agreed hesitantly, then relaxed, and nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry. It's just, some things just need to stay private, and I wasn't really prepared to be walking in on... Well, I'm glad you just thought to lock the door first, otherwise I really _would_ have walked in..." He grimaced, and took a long swig of his beer.

"I just want you to know, we're going to be careful with this." Daisy told him, and he looked up at her.

"I know, Tremors." He said gently. He set his controller aside and leaned over to snag a fresh beer, offering it to her. She nodded, and he tossed it to her before picking up the game controller again. "Still my wingman?" He asked after she had opened it and taken a drink. She grinned at him.

" _My_ job in the field was never in question. Why don't we see if _you're_ still good at being _my_ wingman?" She teased, plopping onto the couch next to him, careful not to spill her beer. He chuckled wryly and tossed the other controller into her lap, shaking his head.

They'd been playing for a good ten minutes when he groaned and leaned his shoulder away from her slightly.

"That's his shirt, isn't it?" He asked uncomfortably, and she raised her eyebrow at him. He wouldn't look her in the eye.

"Does that bother you?" She asked in a very 'therapist' manner.

"Depends on what _he's_ up there wearing right now." Mack grimaced. "I can't set foot in that room ever again." He complained. Daisy laughed, which she knew wouldn't put him at ease.

"I could go check, for you," Daisy offered, getting to her feet. Mack jumped up and shook his head at her, holding his hand out in a 'watch it' gesture.

"I'm gonna go see what Hunter's up to," Mack said quickly, not wanting to risk overhearing anything else he didn't want to hear.

Daisy grinned to herself, then walked to the steps and called up,

"Hey, Coulson, I've got an open game of Call of Duty and nobody to play with!"

A minute later, she heard the office door shut and his footsteps down the hall as he came toward the stairs. Her smile widened and she went to open a beer for him.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys... long time no see. Just wanted to stop by and drop this off, and let you know I haven't actually fallen off of the face of the earth, or anything... just been very busy. Still, busy, actually - I'm supposed to be working right now but I couldn't hold off posting something any longer. I've still been writing when I can, and I've been trying to keep up with everyone else's wonderful (amazing, beautiful, emotional, crazy, funny, angsty, sexy) Skoulson stories. Hopefully, I'll have enough time to myself to stop by Tumblr, and to update my beast of a story.


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